A bit that fell out of me after I lost my love |
Despair, that torturous press of dread Making one fear, making one dead Dead is the soul, that flame now coal This is the death of the fire: and inside the dark flows Where is the touch of my heart? my soul? Inconceivable to be able to make turns and see that behind sight: flame unseen it burns unseen it churns what has one done when this fate he earns? Powerless I see no relief or release visions ensue of means to an end to be shuffled— one way or another— from the mortal coil thinking “Peace…” -…- Paralyzed I cried out so silently for aide and remembered I was laid near a warmth a shine that I wondered if a God had made. Returning to a life still haunted trying again, quite daunted until I turn You are there a smile still flaunted, no longer unwanted. Aeons I felt, even as moments pass, as I rested or shivered in your grasp talk so familiar grace in action so timeless, how can I make it past? Memory so very sweet with pain love it is, swept in like rain washing away darkest shade the wounds it soothed yet remain. Frightened STOP MOVING I shout but lives swirl about drifting away changing they come in, they go out. Memory will forever remind me, even after and the sound of your joyous laughter the same distorted around You I dance (then past her). Alone. |